


Someone Unseen

by LuckySevens



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Epic Mickey (Video Games), Fantasia (1940)
Genre: Fear, Hatred, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Magic, One Shot, Panic, Watching, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckySevens/pseuds/LuckySevens
Summary: Mickey Mouse is used to having eyes on him at almost every moment. It's simply a normal part of life for him. Now, however, he can't shake the feeling that there's someone new watching. Someone he can't see. Someone angry.Set in the continuity of the Epic Mickey graphic novel adaption.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	Someone Unseen

**Author's Note:**

> One of the many differences between the game and the graphic novel is that it mentions how, in Wasteland, "every so often, portals would open that would provide a glimpse of the outside world...".

Someone new is watching him.

At the start of the day he was ready to brush it off as just his own imagination, but as the day goes on, he becomes solidly sure. Whoever that someone is, they've kept their eyes glued to him, inexplicably, where-ever he goes. He can feel them during parades, they remain as people stream in and out of his greeting room, even when he settles in a simple, small breakroom with no crevices to hide in, alone, he still senses them. 

It would be disquieting enough, but along with the sense of observation, he gets the feeling, a pit in his stomach, that this mysterious someone is not happy. In fact, he's certain this person must hate him. With a fiery passion. He can feel the anger and hatred pricking at the back of his head, a feeling of vulnerability that he can't shake no matter what he does, and it carries with it a sense of impending danger. 

So Mickey does not keep up the façade of calmness and etiquette any longer than absolutely necessary. As soon as possible he's gone from the park, gone from his home, and moving through the faded stone walls of the old castle, mysterious, uncomfortable feeling following him all the while. He doesn't stop to exchange pleasantries with anyone he passes, or to tell them where he's going. The only thing that briefly stops his beeline to the castle is his decision to change into his red robe, clutching it around himself like a security blanket. It makes him feel stronger, more capable. The little mouse with the mischievous streak might not have much of a chance to fend off danger, but the powerful magic wielder does. He hopes.

He does not ask for permission to use the hat. It's kind of his now anyway. He grabs it from its pedestal, so quick he almost knocks over the glass, and runs through one hall, down a spiral staircase, another hallway, and into the large library, where shelves of books, completely covering the circular room's walls, rose so far up overhead that they disappeared into darkness. It did not occur to the mouse, until this moment, just how many shadows and dark corners there are in each room of the castle. It seems there aren't nearly enough candles, even in a space meant for reading.

With a quick pulling motion, as if snatching a spider from its web, a dozen books, thick and heavy, bound in leather, fly from the shelves and settle on a large, circular, oak table, already littered with papers and quills. Books with useful spells, mostly for detection, some for protection. 

A candelabra sits on the center of the table. It already gives enough light to read by, but he makes an encouraging motion in its direction, bouncing his hand upward, and the flames grow a bit stronger. Not strong enough for his liking, but stronger.

He shakes as he frantically flips through the tomes, fumbling as he can barely control his hands. The feeling of being watched is still with him. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up. If anything, the feeling of vulnerability is worse in the magic castle, so strong it almost makes him nauseous. Its continued presence terrifies him. If there was ever supposed to be a place where he was safe, from anything other than his own antics at least, it should've been there. There were very powerful spells cast on every door, every wall, every stone that made up the floor. All cast by the castle's owner; strong spells with experience behind them. Other types of magic should not have been able to enter.

So it must not be magic from outside. Someone must be nearby.

His searching is much too slow, and made even slower by how he feels compelled to scan his surroundings near constantly. The few chairs and other tables scattered around the room couldn't possibly hide anyone, their designs include holes and they're too high off the floor, but he keeps glancing at them anyway. He stares up at the darkness above him and pictures something big looking down, angry, or, maybe, eager. He turns behind him, to the door he came from, and expects to just barely glimpse someone pulling it shut to avoid being seen. Then he slaps himself, and takes a second, hand over his rapidly beating heart, to take in deep breaths.

 _Darn imagination..._ it's dangerous to have thoughts like that with the hat on...

There must be something he can use. He's certain that the amount of knowledge the books represent is too vast and too deep to have missed something like this.

Finally, after a time period he doesn't know exactly but he's sure was way too long, he managed to find a spell, carefully written in flowing script on the aged paper, that he hopes, silently prays will help. A spell that should lead him to this mysterious watcher; a prospect that frightens the mouse terribly, but he tries his best to brush the feeling of apprehension aside. After all, a confrontation is, most likely, inevitable. How else is he supposed to deal with whoever this person is? He balks, letting his pride swallow his sense perhaps, at running to Yen Sid for help, like a scared child. He considers, briefly, a calming spell to simply convince himself it's not an issue, but immediately dismisses the idea; it solves nothing. 

Ending his mental debate, he reads the instructions, then takes a deep breath to ready himself. He clasps his hands together, closes his eyes, then whirls around, opening them both at the same time. A small ball of light appears from his hands, and begins moving towards the door. Something, however, goes wrong, leaving the mouse staring with wide eyes. The little ball of light stops its course, quivering in midair, before dissolving. As soon as it's gone, Mickey throws his arms to his head as a horrible, stabbing pain comes over his skull.

A scream escapes him. He falls to the ground, barely conscious of his surroundings enough to hastily scramble under the table, hiding as best he can out of instinct, hand clutching at the hat to keep it on his head. His breathing gets quicker. If someone was around, now, he guesses, would be the logical time to strike. His eyes squeeze shut and his teeth clench, attempting to ward off the agony. He tries to search his memory for any kind of protection spell he might already know, but finds the pain makes it impossible to focus enough to adequately search his thoughts.

At the edge of his consciousness he's barely aware enough to note new sounds in the room. 

The door creaks open. There are footsteps, slow ones, coming closer.

He forces his eyes back open.

A familiar blue robe is visible from his position under the table. Nearly as soon as he recognizes what he's seeing, the headache dulls. He lets out a deep sigh of relief, and with it goes his inhibition at asking for help. At this point he's fully convinced he's lost without guidance. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but he doesn't really feel any; he still feels someone staring. There's clearly something wrong. Why should he feel embarrassed?

"Yen Sid," he says, climbing out from underneath the table, a sight that only prompts the sorcerer to raise a single eyebrow. There's relief in the mouse's voice, but he still feels disoriented, and he takes a moment to get his breathing back to normal, hold his head as if that'll stop the gentle swaying his body is doing without him noticing, before he continues. He realizes, as the information comes tumbling out, that he has a lot to say but not much to say about it, "someone...someone's here. I'm being watched. I tried to find them but the spell...something happened with the spell, and it...just..."

He slams his hands together, by now finding himself staring at the floor with a frustrated look. Then his eyes arc up to the older sorcerer, his eye ridges raising and his mouth dropping into a gentle frown, hoping for some direction.

The other toon stands in silence for a moment, the way his eyes narrow and he turns just slightly in the direction of the door being the only indication he heard the mouse speak.

"Your spell..." he eventually says, "interfered with a longstanding one I already cast..."

He shoots the shorter toon a severe look.

"Do not cast it again."

It's a pointless instruction, given the pain that Mickey can only guess was a deliberate deterrent, but he still nods. Then he waits some more, hands clasped together, drawn to his chin. He continues his nervous glancing around the room, upward, and to the door. It takes a conscious effort for him to not start tapping his foot. Clearly the sorcerer knows what's happening, so why isn't he explaining?

"There is nothing dangerous watching you."

Mickey doesn't like how that sentence is worded.

"...but someone _is_ watching me?" he asks.

Again, the mouse finds himself waiting. The human is looking at the door again, and now there's a bit of frustration in his features. He plucks the hat off the mouse's head, not bothering to turn in his direction, before continuing.

"Forget about this," he orders.

Mickey bites back a comment on his teacher's sanity before it can escape his mouth. 

"I can't!" he shouts instead. The older sorcerer is already walking away, however.

"You already have. Trust me."

Yen Sid shuts the door behind him, and the mouse is alone in the library once again. Frustrated. Still frightened, but mostly frustrated; it distracts him enough that he's not shaking anymore, his heart isn't beating so hard anymore. In a moment he will find that the horrible feeling that drove him to the castle has vanished. For now, he talks as if he might still get an answer from the air.

"What's that s'posed to mean?"

* * *

He had clutched at his heart.

The pampered little knock-off had actually clutched at his heart.

As if it wasn't the most perfectly functioning heart of all, as if it wasn't a well oiled machine, sure to keep beating for decades to come.

Oswald the Lucky Rabbit clutches at his ears, bringing one of them to his mouth so he can bite on it and suppress a frustrated scream.

He must calm down. If he doesn't, he fears he might break his telescope in a fit of anger.

Besides, he's certain the sorcerer will be communicating with him soon. He holds his nose in the air as he abruptly stands up, turning away from the telescope as if to rule it out entirely as a target. He takes in a deep breath, lets it out slowly. The king of Wasteland must meet the creator of Wasteland with a cool head, or at least as close to one as he can muster, so they can talk calmly about that, as Oswald sees it, paranoid, whiny little student of his, making way too big a deal out of some harmless observation. What could his watching possibly really do to the mouse? He's still anchored to Wasteland.

Doesn't he deserve a hobby? Doesn't he have enough issues to deal with that this little stress reliever isn't worth taking away from him? Of course he does. At least, he's willing to argue he does. If Mickey, who clearly loves his attention so much, who eats it up so eagerly normally when it comes packaged with smiles and awe, suddenly had an issue with being watched just because the person who was doing it did it with narrowed eyes and a frown, just because the person loathed him with every fiber of his being, well, that was his problem. As far as Oswald is concerned, anyway.

The rabbit smiles.

It feels good to know he can bring Mickey to the verge of hysterics by doing something as simple as watching.

**Author's Note:**

> Also in the graphic novel and relevant here; Oswald knows Mickey caused the Thinner Disaster and so is significantly meaner, and Yen Sid knows about the Thinner Disaster and Blot but doesn't fix it as he hopes the person responsible will do it.


End file.
